


New Years Rumble

by TheEquestrianidiot



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEquestrianidiot/pseuds/TheEquestrianidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the night of New Years Eve, everything seems to be going fine. The Turtles are enjoying themselves, April is relaxing and life is good. But when an unexpected guest makes an appearance, will that interrupt the peaceful and happy night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Years Rumble

Music filled the air as Michelangelo placed the vinyl record in the record player. His brothers looked on as he began to dance and move his body with the music. Loud, operatic, vocals flowed throughout the near empty apartment complex. When Leo suggested that they camp in one of their usual rest areas, nobody complained. But since Mikey found that record player in a room on the forth floor, they were starting to rethink their decision.

~P~

April sighed as the cool water flowed from the dirty sink and into her cupped hands. Splashing the water in her face, she sighed again and looked up in the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall. It had been five years since she met the turtles. Five years since the Kraang. Five years since her father was mutated into a giant bat-creature-thing. Five years since she almost lost him. But like all bad things, time eventually passed and in that time, they found a cure and April had her father back.

She also found love. When Donatello had told her how he felt about her, she was more then shocked. But after a short time of thinking about it, she had come to share the same feeling. And it was sweet to. Whenever she'd kiss him, and he would pull away his face would always be so red! But that was what she loved about him. Five years. Well, six if one was to count tonight. After all, it was New Years Eve. Surprisingly, nothing much happened that night except a brush with a small group of Purple Dragons trying to rob a jewelry store. But of course, this night was also a bit difficult, as one of the members was bigger than most but April couldn't get a good look at him given the circumstances. But. . . he apparently didn't like April very much. But she really didn't do that much! All she did was give him a quick kick to the pills and keep him busy until Donatello managed to step in and knock him out.

And now here they are. Turns out that their current place of resting had been abandoned for going on . . . 25 years, she thought Donnie had said. It took a bit of work, but of of course he found out about the building. It had been abandoned after the owner got busted for tax payment evasions on the building. It was shut down and never used since. Two years after they found it, it became like a second headquarters. It was actually in very good shape. Of course, the had to decorate a few of the rooms for each of themselves and April, and after a while, they made it feel like another home. But it was still nothing compared to the lair in the sewers. Donnie had managed to "borrow" some electricity from the residing buildings so the got lights and hot water when needed. So in short life was pretty good. And with her finishing her training with Splinter just made things better. All she needed now was a bit of rest before the big countdown to announce the new year. A loud knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. April sighed inwardly and set down a glass of water on a dresser and headed towards the door.

As she opened the door, she suddenly saw a fist the size of a football smacked her in the jaw.

April fell back, stunned, as an extremely large man entered her room. All April could wonder was how he found her.

The Big Dragon. April knew him right away because this was the same Dragon she kicked in the go-nads earlier in the night. And was the biggest man she'd ever seen in her life. The man towered over her like an NBA player on a girls' field hockey team.

Those thoughts all passed through April's mind in a split second.

And then the Dragon hit her again.

Wham, with the right hand.

Wham, with the left, just as hard.

April staggered.

He was ambidextrous.

The Dragon reared back and swung again. This time, April had the wherewithal to duck.

The man's fist went through the wall—and stuck.

April grabbed a butterfly knife from her boot and, in a single, fluid motion, jabbed the blade into the Dragon's shoulder.

Except that somehow, miraculously, the Dragon grabbed her wrist with his free hand and stopped April's thrust just as it tore his shirt.

That's not possible, she thought. No one that big can move that fast.

The Dragon then pulled his stuck hand free of the wall, wrenched the knife from April's grasp with his other hand, and stabbed her straight through the shoulder.

April screamed in agony.

The Dragon smiled, pulled the knife out, and thrust forward again.

Somehow, April was able to dodge. The knife stuck in the wall. The Dragon struggled to pull it free.

April staggered deeper into the loft.

~P~

Donatello stood by himself a moment in the apartment, letting a little wave of fautage wash over him.

Then he went to join his brothers.

He walked in and found Mikey wearing a chef's hat, stirring something on the stove. Raph was kneeling next to the stereo, flipping through a stack of records.

Both looked up at his entrance. Mikey looked up at his brother. "Well?" he asked.

"April said she wont make dinner, but she'll be up in time for the countdown."

Mikey nodded sadly turned back towards the meal he was cooking.

Leonardo put on a record and began air-conducting the music.

All at once, a huge thump lightly shook the building.

~P~

April hid behind the bathroom door and waited. She'd been very, very careless, and now she would have to be very, very careful. This could not be a fair fight—she'd die in a heartbeat. An ambush was her only chance.

And April had been preparing for an ambush—preparing herself and the apartment—for months now.

April clutched a crowbar in her hand as the Dragon's footsteps grew closer, then stopped.

April risked a peek out from behind the door.

He stood in the middle of the room, flexing his bands, weight on the balls of his feet, rocking gently from side to side. Listening. Eyes scanning the room, alert for—

The Dragon turned and smiled right at April's hiding place.

April saw the mirror directly opposite her, realized she'd been spotted, and charged, crowbar raised high above her head.

She'd been afraid the shoulder wound would slow her down; it didn't. Her leap from hiding was perfectly timed; her swing was straight and true and backed with every ounce of strength she could summon.

The crowbar slammed down, full force, on the Dragon's head. It made a horrible sound.

The large man smiled as he ripped the crowbar from April's hands and, before she could move, swung it hard into her chest.

April felt a rib crack, and gasped. The Dragon swung again and broke another one. A third swing, and then a fourth, and a fifth, and April staggered backward into the bathroom.

Holding the crowbar with his hands, like a baseball player heading toward the plate from the on-deck circle, the Dragon followed.

April slid open the drawer of the vanity and smiled.

It pays to plan ahead, she thought, and she pulled out a grenade she'd hidden there.

She looked up.

The Dragon stood in the doorway, a sudden frown crossing his face.

April pulled the pin and threw the grenade. At the same instant, she reached for the lever she'd installed next to the vanity and pulled that as well. The spring-loaded steel door above the bathroom entrance began to descend.

The Dragon batted the grenade back into the bathroom.

The steel door slammed down.

The grenade exploded.

~P~

The needle on the record player skipped. The turntable arm lifted, and the machine shut off.

"Did you feel that?" Michelangelo stood at the stove, poised to begin making the Florentine.

Raphael frowned.

"You think something's wrong?" he asked.

On the couch, Donatello took a bite from a tub of ice cream he found in the freezer. "I didn't feel a thing," he said.

Michelangelo looked at him and shrugged. He continued cooking.

Leonardo turned the music back on.

~P~

Plaster sprinkled down on her. April looked up from inside the cast-iron tub that had saved her life and saw the Dragon looming over her.

The Dragon grabbed both of April's legs. He picked her up then, swung her through the air once, and let go.

April went through what was left of a wall and landed in the bedroom.

She lay on the floor a moment, stunned.

She heard the Dragon's heavy footfalls near the door, and then heard wood splinter. She struggled to her feet.

The Dragon was holding her toilet. Her entire toilet.

April charged at him. The Dragon used the toilet the way he'd used the crowbar, like a baseball bat.

He hit April with it and sent her flying again. April slammed back into something very hard. Her head spun. The refrigerator. She was in the kitchen.

The Dragon's face was suddenly inches from hers.

All at once, the Dragon's hands were around her throat. Tightening. April couldn't breathe. _Man_ , she thought, _This guy really holds a grudge!_

Her eyes scanned the kitchen, searching for the weapons she'd hidden. No grenades here; the gun emplacements out of reach, the knives in a drawer all the way on the other side of the room.

Out the window, he could see into the turtle's apartment. Michelangelo stood at the stove, cooking, his back to her. Leonardo conducted an orchestra. Donatello sat on the couch, eating and staring off into space with Raphael next to him.

April gasped for air, tried to dislodge the Dragon's hands.

He slammed her head back against the refrigerator again.

"How do you say in America: Just chill." This was the first time he spoke. He sounded Russian. The Russian Dragon smiled, and repeated the word and the action. "Chill. Chill. Chill."

From somewhere, April found the strength to kick him in the knee. The Dragon grimaced, then tried to step back, his hands still wrapped around April's neck. The move took April out from in front of the refrigerator . . . and put her in range of her tessen lying next to her.

April tried to flick her wrist and open her weapon, but The Dragon, however, scooped a barbell off the floor and smashed it into her hand.

April screamed in agony as she felt her two of her finger and her thumb break.

The Dragon hit her with the barbell, and April flew backward and out through her still-open door and into the hall.

The Dragon followed.

~P~

"Dude, I heard that noise again. It's definitely louder, man." Mikey cocked his head a moment and listened. "It sounds actually like it's coming from right out in the hall."

"Don't be silly", Donatello was about to say, when an ax split his door in half.

The door splintered, and April fell through what remained of it, followed a second later by the biggest guy the turtles had ever seen in their lives, holding the ax at his side.

The turtles were in shock. April looked the way every bad guy they had ever fought looked—worse, in fact. Much worse. More black and blue than not.

The big guy raised the ax and brought it down again. At the last possible second, April rolled out of the way, and the blade buried itself in the floor.

 _Holy_ _shit_ , Donatello realized. _He really is trying to kill her_. Before any of the turtles could react, a quick fist to the jaw sent Donatello flying.

Wham. A blow to the plastern had Leonardo doubling over.

Wham. A kick to the groin had Raphael moaning like a girl.

Wham. Another swift blow to the side of the head KO'd Michelangelo.

The big guy dropped the ax, picked April up by the shirt, and spun her around and around like an airplane. The Dragon slammed April down on Mikey's cutting table, right next to the stove.

He reached for Mikey's knives.

April grabbed the vat of oil off the burner and threw it in the Dragon's face.

The man screamed and staggered, clawing at his face.

April got to her feet and tackled him, driving him back out into the hallway.

A recovering Donnie and Leo staggered over to the door and looked out into the hallway. The two were on the ground, rolling over and over, locked in each other's embrace, the big guy punching blindly, April striking back with relentless purpose.

Donatello didn't know what to do. A second later, there was nothing he could do.

They hit the top of the stairs, still fighting, still wrapped together, completely unaware of where they were, what was about to happen. The Dragon swung, a roundhouse punch that caught nothing but air, and then—just like that—they were falling.

Clunk, clunk, clunk was the noise they made, a slamming, bone-on-wood noise that made Donatello's stomach turn. "April!" he yelled, and ran to the staircase, Leo a step behind him.

He heard them hit bottom, and cringed. Next to him, at the top of the stairs, Leo cringed, too.

Raph came up behind them. He shook his head. "Whoa," he said.

"April" Donatello said, hobbling slowly down the staircase as a nauseating wave of vertigo struck him. "April?"

There was no response.

Raph and Leo took a hesitant step forward, then looked down the staircase together.

Donatello heaved a sigh of relief as he reached the bottom; April pushed up off the ground and got to her feet.

"You're all right?" Donatello asked as he embraced her.

"I'm fine," April replied. "He's not."

Which was most definitely true: The big guy was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, his unseeing eyes wide open.

Something about his position suddenly struck Michelangelo as off. It took him a few seconds to figure out what, though, and when he did get it, he wished he'd hadn't, because the realization made his stomach roll over.

The big guy's head had been completely twisted around on his neck. One hundred eighty degrees.

He thought he was going to be sick.

Then he got a better look at April, who had just finished climbing the stairs, and threw up.

April's head wouldn't stop spinning.

She staggered down the hall and into the apartment in her boyfriends arms. The others followed.

"You're bleeding," Leo said, looking down at the floor.

"Really?" April said, "I didn't notice". April looked, too. Blood was pooling at her feet. A lot of blood.

Her vision blurred; the next thing she knew, she was on her knees.

Leonardo's voice spoke up next to her. "Come on, April. Lets get Donnie to look at you."

"Oh! I know what could help," Michelangelo said, and disappeared. A second later, he was back, holding out a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

April and the turtles stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "What?" Mikey said. "I've heard it helps with pain!"

"April doesn't need whiskey! She needs-" but April took the bottle from Mikey's hands, opened it, and in a mouthful. It burned in her throat; it burned in het gut; it burned in her veins.

"We've got to do something about that knife wound," Raph said.

It was Donatello's turn to disappear then. He returned with a first-aid kit: and cut away the shirt from the wound, and then began threading a surgical needle. Guess it was a good thing April decided to wear a bra that night.

Donnie took out the iodine and poured it on her wound. It stung like a maddened swarm of bees. April took another hit of the whiskey.

He held up the needle.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"This'll hurt."

"It always does." April had been treated on the battlefield before; she could handle it.

Then the needle pierced her skin, and she screamed.

"Is she going to die?" Mikey asked. "She looks weak."

Donnie glanced up quickly from the wound: April's eyes had rolled back in her head. Her eyelids were fluttering.

April didn't look good, Mikey was right about that, but Donatello doubted she was going to die. "I think she's going to be fine," he said, doing another stitch.

"Yes. I agree . . . Donnie . . . appearances . . . aren't . . . everything." All at once, Leonardo's voice sounded strained: Donnie looked up and saw April had grabbed him by the bicep and was holding on tight.

"Ah, April," Leo said, "you can let go now. Please?"

April's grip relaxed.

Leo breathed a small sigh. "Man!" he said, "She's stronger than she looks!"

Raph patted his shoulder. "Of course!" he said, "She's April."

Donatello spoke up from April's wound. "My only question is, how did that guy find this place? And why April?"

Leo spoke now. "I don't know. But all that matters right now is April and her wellbeing. Speaking of, hows it coming?"

"Just about done here. Two more stitches, I think, and then—"

A loud cheering interrupted him. The three unoccupied turtles rushed to a nearby widow and gasped. Outside, thousands of people were gathered in the streets. In the distance, the large New Years ball were slowly lowering with ten seconds left.

The other turtles turn around and stopped short. Donnie, finished with April, was holding her hand with April's head laying against Donatello's shoulder.  
The others turned and face the window as the countdown began:

"TEN!"

"NINE!"

"EIGHT!"

"SEVEN!"

"SIX!"

"FIVE!"

April snuggled closer to boyfriend as the final second drew near.

"THREE!"

"TWO!"

"ONE!"

April smiled and leaned into her boyfriend as two smiled and shared a kiss. Minus the whole "near death experience" she had earlier, she couldn't deny: Life was good.


End file.
